The retired swim coach who I see at the pool most days was telling me about his son this week. His son has worked at Google for 17 years. The coach calls him “The Oligarch”. He earns close to $1M a year. He owns a mansions in San Francisco and another on the beach in Marblehead. He was hired by Google right out of college and eventually landed in charge of a major division.
Immediately, I felt jealous. I spent years trying to work for Google. I wanted to work there ever since they first launched back in 1999. I knew about Google employees making fortunes from stock options, enjoying undreamed of perks and working on cool projects.
I never even got an interview.
That morning I spent most of my swim stewing about this. I never made millions. I lost more money from my stock options than I made. Heck, I didn’t even get out from crushing debt until I was in my mid 40s – after having worked nearly 30 years at some pretty crappy, low paying jobs. And this kid – who’s not even 40 yet – has had the dream career, made millions, and is set for easy street.
You can start playing the violin for me anytime.
Then I began to smile because here I was wasting my swim time envying the son of a guy I barely know.
What I know is the coach and his wife were schoolteachers who made career choices and sacrifices so they could send their sons to the best prep schools in the country. I know they helped their sons with funding and scholarships to get into Ivy League colleges. They provided safe, secure, middle class lives that set their kids up for success. The Oligarch benefited from this – obviously.
My life was different. My Dad was nonexistent. My mom spent as little time as possible caring for us kids. In many ways, I raised myself since the age of 5. We lived a lower class life with no stability that was filled with chaos and turmoil.
I might as well be envious of Trump’s kids or the heirs of the Heinz Family. I have as much in common with them as with the Oligarch.
So I never made it to Google. And I never made millions. But here I am, in my 5th year of early retirement, swimming laps in January, planning a day of making art, hanging out with my dogs and reading. I’m doing exactly what I’ve always wanted to do.
I love my small house. I love my small dogs. I love my small life.
I don’t need (or even want) a mansion on the beach, much less two of them. I don’t want to work for Google or anyone else.
I won’t lie – I’d love to have millions of dollars. It would provide me with a different level of security and comfort than my current savings. But that wasn’t the hand I was dealt.
And it turns out that the hand I was dealt, is pretty good.